Escapism and Other Lovely Conditions
by faerietaleredux
Summary: Ever wonder what triggered Macy Misa's fan-girl obsession with JONAS? Nick never really cared enough to think about it. Until something makes him start questioning everything. Set in season 1; Or serves as a segway into season 2, whichever you prefer.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: If you're wondering why I'm starting yet another story, when I haven't finished "Misadventures in Babysitting," I'm very sorry! It'll be up soon, I promise. This was written in response to "Love Sick," where Macy's fan-girlness seemed pushed too far. Now I want to explore the origins of Macy's obsession. Thank you _suburbs_ for beta-ing – if there are errors, they're mine. This chapter has been through so many drafts I had to just post it finally--for better or worse._

_

* * *

  
_

.

"_to prejudge other men's notions before_ we have looked into them,

is not to show their darkness, but [our own]." --john locke

.

Sometimes all Macy really wanted was to be left alone.

She didn't want to break anyone's heart, or look in the mirror and wonder who she was.

She didn't want her classmates staring at her. Or for Nick Lucas to see her cry. And she certainly didn't want Dr. Phelps to compliment her on the "progress she's made."

Especially since she knew she'd only replaced one kind of neurosis with another.

.

three hours earlier

.

Nick had exactly two things on his mind as he made his way to the office to drop off attendance—the Chem exam worth a third of his grade, and Julie, the girl who sat in front of him in lab. He didn't usually care much about grades (music was his passion, not school), but mom threatened to pull the plug on JONAS' summer tour if they didn't keep up a B average. So the pressure was on.

But sitting behind Julie—with her gold spun wavy hair and bright blue eyes—eased the pain a bit. And to help matters some, she was partnered with Stella. With his friend's help, he'd have Julie's number in no time.

Technically he should be able to get it on his own. But, unlike Joe, he wasn't that great at initiating relationships with girls. Maybe he could ask her for her notes or something. Or was that too obvious? He'd check with Stella, who had a sixth sense about these things.

Nick's phone vibrated in his pocket and he smirked at the text. According to the rumor mill Assistant Coach "Holly Hotness" would be substituting in for P.E. class.

Not a bad start to the day.

_Uh-oh._ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Macy Misa coming down the hallway. With two quick steps he was hiding under a staircase, attendance folder in hand. It didn't look like she was carrying anything lethal, but with Macy you never knew. He didn't need to worry this time. She was heading to the Nurse's office.

"Hi there! I'm here to pick up a note."

The Nurse shuffled through papers on her desk. "Ah, yes. Dr. Phelps says this will get you out of swimming. He arranged to have you join third period P.E. for today instead. They're getting a tour of the pool for orientation and then it's a free period."

Nick winced. Third period was his class. Which meant Macy would be in P.E. with him. Not a good sign. He loved the JONAS fans as much as anybody, but sometimes the antics of their superfan scared him. Ok, _a lot of times_ they scared him.

Nick didn't do well with anything that contradicted his own understanding of how the world should work. And Macy definitely fell into that category. See, liking Jonas was a compliment. Obsessively loving it to the point of _crazy_—not so much.

But then Joe said Nick judged people too harshly. He could be right… But probably wasn't.

Nick had yet to be proven wrong, so he figured it was safe to say his take on the universe was fairly spot-on.

.

**o**

.

In the back of her mind, Macy knew it was a bad idea to approach Stella while she talked to Nick. But even though logic suggested she wait, the opportunity to be within proximity of a Lucas boy was too hard for Macy to resist sometimes.

Especially on bad days, when everything felt prolonged and miserable. If she needed something to lift her spirits, JONAS usually did the trick. Seeing JONAS in any form made her feel like a kid again; her anxiety melted away so that all that was left was a kind of euphoric high, everything else momentarily forgotten. Dr. Phelps said it was a form of escapism. And he was probably right. But Macy didn't care. What harm was there really? Other than to her pride.

She'd risk discovering new ways to embarrass herself if it meant experiencing a little of the happiness only her favorite band could provide.

She bounced up to Stella, leaning between an orange and beige locker door.

Stella smiled big but Nick's forehead creased when he saw her.

Macy let them continue their conversation without interrupting. She was content to stare shamelessly at Nick's profile.

He made every effort to avoid eye contact with her, focusing solely on Stella. "So you think she'd say yes? I'm not being too subtle?"

"Asking for notes from a girl who tried to take her nail polish off with the lab chemicals? I'm pretty sure she'll pick up on the fact that you're asking to spend time with her, not for help with homework. Then again…"

Nick rolled his eyes. "You're not being helpful."

"Sorry. I've got a monologue next period in Drama and it's all I can think about. Maybe Macy can help you."

Macy perked up, her eyelashes fluttering quickly and smiling even wider.

He looked at her finally, mumbling a "no thanks" before getting as far away as possible.

But even after he left, Macy couldn't help but shudder at the look he gave her. As though even the idea of asking _her _for help seemed utterly preposterous.

.

**o**

.

The swim team had the pool today, so there was a row of students in suits and bathing caps lined up to use the diving board. Every forty-five seconds, like clockwork, he could hear the vibration of the board and the muffled splash that follows a really good dive.

Nick's P.E. class, consisting mostly of sophomore boys, hovered awkwardly around the pool—waiting for Holly "Hotness" to finish roll call. She shot Macy an evil glare.

"I don't see you on the roster here, Ms. Misa."

Macy handed her note forward. "I'm just here for the day."

She looked at the paper casually then tossed it aside. "You always were one for excuses."

_Ouch._ Nick thought that was kind of harsh. But Macy didn't say anything.

Randolph Something-Or-Other watched them from the lifeguard post and waved hesitantly at Macy. She smiled back.

Coach Holly noticed the exchange and called him over. "Randolph, come here for a second."

He climbed down and sauntered over with another look in Macy's direction. _Did he have a thing for her or something?_ Nick wasn't sure.

"Randolph, I left my clipboard in the gym. Go and get it for me, will you?"

"Uh, I'm on duty right now. Can someone else get it?"

Holly smirked. "I think the three-time swimming champions can survive without you for a minute. But I promise we'll call you over to perform mouth-to-mouth if the need arises."

Some of the boys snickered and Randolph looked down.

Nick frowned.

Macy stared after Randolph as he left for the gym. "Ms. Holly, there's supposed to be a lifeguard on duty whenever someone's in the pool. Coach's rule."

"I'm surprised you of all people would have something to say about following rules, Ms. Misa." She said it with a laugh, though her tone was laced with derision.

Macy glued her eyes to the water, choosing not to answer.

Nick's curiosity got the best of him and he asked the jock behind him what all of it was about. The guy seemed like someone who would know the athletic gossip.

The jock lowered his voice. "Macy quit the swim team last year, a week before championships. You're not allowed to pull out of a competition with so little notice, but Coach Coleman and the officials let her off the hook. The team got creamed—lowest scores ever. Hot Holly still holds it against her."

Nick could understand being upset about losing. He was a very competitive person and found losing a pretty miserable experience--especially if it was because someone didn't live up to their commitment. In all honesty, Nick preferred individual sports. Depending on anyone one but himself was a challenge, and he already had enough of that being in a band.

Still, watching Macy blink back an emotion he couldn't recognize—before turning away again quickly—he felt bad for her.

Holly removed her sweatshirt, revealing a tight fitting track suit, and proceeded to demonstrate proper stroke techniques to the class. Most of the boys tried to nod their heads in understanding, even while ogling her. Nick wasn't sure why covering swimming strokes was even necessary, since they weren't scheduled to swim today. _Could it be that she just liked the attention? Because that's pretty sad._ _Even if she does have nice arms._

Nick tilted his head, still trying to figure out what the coach's deal was when his brain registered a hallow _THUD _sound. And a _SPLASH_ just beside him.

He looked over and Macy was gone.

_She'd jumped in the pool?!_

He noticed a red scarf floating in the water and wondered if she was diving in to get it? _That's kind of random_, even for Macy.

_Wait._ His brain began registering what was happening. _That's not a scarf. Its blood!  
_

In those seconds, the entire pool area quieted to an eerily silence before all hell broke loose. Macy broke the surface of the water, gasping for breath—a girl in her arms. Nick had no idea who she was—her skin looked deathly pale and the blue swimming cap had come off so strings of blood-matted blond hair covered her neck. _They say head wounds bleed the worst._

Nick hadn't moved. Had anyone? _Wa__s this what shock feels like?_ As though your feet are cemented to the ground and all you can do is watch while everything swooshes past in slow motion?

The gym door flew open. Randolph ran towards the injured girl with Coach Coleman right behind him, yelling obscenities.

Macy had finally pulled the body, erm, girl from the pool. Why hadn't anyone helped her? _Idiot, why hadn't you helped her?_

The realization made Nick step forward, even if all he wanted to do was back away, blending into the crowd. Stepping forward made the slow-mo world disappear, but he could barely register the chaos around him—the screaming and shuffling of feet.

Coach knelt beside the girl, shaking her shoulders. Nothing.

Randolph pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around her head, and Macy tried to put pressure on the wound, her hand pressing against the fabric. But Nick could see her rocking back-and-forth.

He stepped closer, not sure why. She was so upset—and why shouldn't she be—covered in blood, trying to resuscitate a girl who'd drowned in front of her. But Nick could tell there was more wrong than the obvious. Even while Macy knelt over the girl, he could see her crying. Sobbing, really. She was terrified.

Jumping in that water had been the last thing she wanted to do, but she'd done it anyway. While everyone else stood on the sidelines, watching. Like some twisted reality TV show.

Coach noticed him standing there, utterly immobile. "Nick, call 9-1-1. Tell them to send an ambulance ASAP!"

Nick complied, fumbling for his phone, relieved to have something to do.

Coach Coleman looked at Randolph. "Check the airway."

Randolph tilted the girls head back and peered down her throat. "It's clear."

Coach pressed down on the girl's chest with laced-together fists.

Nothing.

Randolph leaned in, placing his cheek against her mouth to feel for breath. He moved again, taking in air and blowing it into her mouth. Nick couldn't turn away. He watched as Randolph's mouth cover the girl's –once, twice, and then again—desperately trying to pump air back into her lungs. What was it Holly had said? "We'll call you in to do mouth-to-mouth if the need arises?"

Wow, does irony bite.

And then, the most pleasantly grotesque sound he could imagine--the girl spitting up water, gasping. She was breathing!

But her head wound still bled something fierce so Coach directed Randolph to take her to meet the paramedics when they came.

Coach approached Macy, her wet blouse tie-dyed with red splotches. She looked at her hands, covered in blood, and started shaking all over again. She wrung her hands together in what looked like a feeble attempt to get the blood off of her. _Or was it the water?_

Nick wanted to help but didn't know how. Or if it was right to try. He felt utterly lost.

Fortunately, Coach Coleman took care of things. He wrapped her in a bear hug, his black hands cradling her head. "You did good, Misa. Real good."

She cried softly into his shoulder. "I can't go in the water, Sir."

"I know. But you did. Heroes do what they have to, even when they're afraid."

She scoffed under her breath and shook her head. "I'm not a hero."

Coach disagreed but there was no convincing her. Nick caught his gaze, suddenly feeling like an intruder on a very private moment. But Coach just motioned him closer. "Nick, take Macy to Dr. Phelps' office, will you?"

She looked at Coach briefly, her eyes widening in a look Nick knew said '_No_ --_anyone but him_.' But Coach ignored it.

Leaving Nick the one feeling nervous and sick.


	2. Chapter 2

_I've been a negligent reader as of late, which is sad because I enjoy reading your stories just as much (if not more) than writing. Not to mention that I haven't replied to anyone's reviews in forever. But while the next few days will be busy for me, I'm going to find time to catch up on things if I can. _

_This chapter is more filler than I would have liked, but I felt I had to post something already. It's been too long._

_

* * *

_

.

_"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science."_

-- Albert Einstein

.

They walked in awkward silence, save for the puttering of shoes against tile. Macy's hair dripped down her back, leaving a scattered water trail along the floor.

He opened the door for her and she stepped through to the gym, shuddering from the blast of air conditioning against her wet skin.

Macy stopped when they approached the girl's locker room, hovering near the door. "Nick, you can just go to class. I'll be okay."

"You don't want me to go with you to the counselor?" _Not that he didn't understand why._ But still, hearing her actually say it _stung_.

"I'm a little cold. I thought I'd change first."

"Oh," he said, seeing her shiver in her soaked uniform. _Was he the least observant person on the planet? _Of course she'd want to change. "I can wait for you."

"No, really, that's okay. I'll be fine. Promise"

He had mixed feelings about leaving. The awkwardness in their few seconds together had been extremely painful, ridden with guilt and sorrow (on his part, anyway), but despite the discomfort, he was not relieved to part ways. If anything, it left him feeling_ empty_.

.

O

.

No one disturbed her as she showered; other than herself, the locker-room remained entirely empty.

Ribbons of steam curled around her. Soothing her.

She wanted to drown out all memories of the day, of_ that_ day. But the pool incident brought it all back with striking clarity and she broke down and sobbed into the jet stream, letting it spray harshly against her face.

With slow intakes of breath, she let the hot water wash away all traces of blood and chlorine.

Macy tried to remind herself that everything was fine now. Amanda was alive and well. No one had drowned today…

But the point was that _they could have._

The whole incident could have been prevented. Easily.

Instead, a young girl had nearly lost her life. What would her family have done without her? _What if they'd never gotten the chance to say goodbye?_

The more Macy thought about it, the more her grief, worry, and guilt transformed into _seething hot anger_. Coach Holly had risked everyone's safety to satisfy her whim. She even prevented other people from doing their jobs.

It made Macy's blood boil.

One thing was certain: she wasn't going to let it happen again.

.

O

.

Van Dyke leaned over the lunch table casually, smiling widely at Stella while trying to persuade her of the threat processed carbohydrates posed to American society. "The tricky thing is they market themselves as healthy grains, but there's nothing remotely good about the little devils. Pure evil, I'm telling you."

Joe rolled his eyes and smacked extra loudly on his pb and j. But Stella was content to listen to him ramble on. She rested her chin on her knuckles and nodded every once in a while, deciding that Van Dyke was even more attractive when passionate about something. Even if that something usually involved random health and fitness obsessions.

Nick normally wouldn't care if Van Dyke joined them. But he'd been hoping to talk to Stella about Macy, and it didn't feel right asking something so personal around anyone who wasn't family.

Van Dyke suddenly stiffened, his eyes shifting to the main door. "Crap."

Everyone at the table followed his gaze, surprised to see Macy stomping in. She was making a bee-line for the front of the cafeteria, where the teachers usually ate.

Before Nick could get up to talk to her, Van Dyke had grabbed a walkie-talkie no one knew he'd had and was speaking some kind of code into it. "Chipmunk has entered the building. She's approaching Red Dragon. Intercept. I repeat, intercept."

There was a bit of a commotion at the other side of the cafeteria, as a number of jocks in letterman jackets started positioning themselves in a make-shift defense line in front of the staff. They tried to look casual but weren't particularly good at it.

Van Dyke smiled awkwardly at Stella. "Um, I gotta go. Talk to you later."

He didn't wait for her to answer, or even send Joe and Nick one of his trademark head nods. With two quick steps he'd walked away from their table, and stood right in Macy's path.

"Hey, Misa. How's it goin'?"

"Not right now, Quarterback."

"Not now? We've got a reservation in the gym. Can't keep those blue mats waiting."

"I can't. There's something I have to take care of." Macy kept glancing over at the faculty tables and Nick noticed for the first time that Holly Hotness was among them. Her reddish hair was pulled up into a high pony tail that flicked around recklessly.

Van Dyke didn't turn to look but his voice was hushed when he spoke next. "Sorry, I can't let you past. Coach says you're not allowed within ten feet of her 'til you cool down."

"That's ridiculous. I need to have a word with her."

He shrugged, "I don't make the rules." But made no signs of moving.

Macy scowled, her cheeks burning with restrained anger. "Someone has to do something. Amanda almost _drowned_ today. Would you be trying to stop me if she had? Would anyone? Because if it happens again it'll be our fault. Negligence kills more people in the water than anything else."

Van Dyke put his hand on her shoulder. "_Someone_ will do something. But not you. And not this way. Come on."

He led her out of the cafeteria and the other jocks on the front line dispersed—the teacher's none the wiser. Macy cast a quick glance behind her. One Holly didn't notice, but Nick did. He caught her gaze and she blinked before turning away and leaving the room entirely.

"What was that about?" Joe asked, taking a swig of milk.

"I don't know," Nick answered, "but I'm going to find out."

.

O

.

Macy hadn't sparred with anyone in a long time. She usually preferred non-contact activities. But every once in a while it felt good to release her tension on a partner who could take it. And Van Dyke could definitely take it.

He defused every one of her attacks, blow for blow.

_It was pretty annoying_ actually. She liked to win. But right now maybe the challenge was exactly what she needed.

She lunged at him suddenly but he didn't duck out of the way. Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her down with him as he fell until they were a crumpled mess on the floor.

_Ow!_ Was she going to regret her sudden taste for violence in the morning. She could already feel the bruises forming on her thigh.

"Better?" He asked, not referring to the match.

"Not really."

He got up and extended a hand to help her up. "Well, at least you can learn one thing from this."

"What's that?"

"Anger makes you sloppy."

Macy smirked. "You sound like the guy from those old _Karate Kid _movies."

Van Dyke craned his hands at an angle, mock-serious. "Wax on, wax off!"

Macy sighed, heading to the locker room for yet another shower.

Van Dyke called out to her retreating form. "You know this doesn't mean you get out of your session with Phelps, right? Coach just said to keep you occupied 'til the doc got back from ----."

She waved dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

.

O

.

Nick was a rational person. The very idea of breaking into the school counselor's office would normally never so much as enter his thought process. Maybe Joe's or Kevin's. But not _his_.

It was wrong. And _crazy_.

But, you know what? He was feeling kind of crazy today. Borderline insane, even.

He couldn't think straight---his thoughts jumbled in an anxious mess. He hated not understanding things. And after this morning, it felt like everything was a mystery to him. His grip on the universe was slipping and this weight pressed against his chest and made it hard to breathe.

So really, this was for medical purposes. Or at least that's one of the excuses Nick planned to offer the principal in the event of being caught and threatened with expulsion.

The door to the filing cabinet had been jammed, but not locked. So after fiddling with it, it finally jerked open loudly.

Nick held the pen-sized flashlight (a gift from dad) in his mouth, and used both hands to sort through the files. The M's were pretty crowded—Munroe, Montana, Malone—yes, even Stella had a file; but Nick didn't touch it. Finally, his fingers found 'Misa.'

He hovered over the cabinet for a second, hesitating. Once he read it, there would be no going back_. Was it right to do this?_ He wanted to help and had reasoned that he couldn't if he didn't know what was wrong, but maybe this wasn't the way to find out.

He didn't have time to contemplate it further because as he stood there a shadow appeared against the Plexiglas door. The figure was speaking to someone on the other side, fumbling with the lock. And seconds later switched on the lights and opened the door.

…_creak_.


	3. Chapter 3

_In a really lame attempt, I'm trying to respond to suburbs quotes challenge and finish up this story at the same time. I feel horrible about leaving all my stories half-finished. Applepips asked me to beta something for her weeks ago, and I haven't done that either. It's horrible of me. (Sorry, Padma!!) I'm trying to get back in the swing of things, but it's slow. Very slow._

_Sorry if my writing is all over the place. This is unedited, but I figure it's now or never._

_*edit* sorry for the re-upload. Something is wrong with my spacing. Sigh.  
_

_

* * *

  
_

"_The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved;_

_loved for ourselves, or rather in spite of ourselves." --__Victor Hugo_

_.  
_

Scrunched between a briefcase and a moth-ridden trench coat, Nick could imagine a few places he'd rather be. His leg was cramping up and it smelled in here. But if hiding in a coat closet kept him from getting expelled, he'd stick it out.

"You've had these sessions with Dr. Phelps for a long while now."

"Yeah."

Nick recognized the voices, though he couldn't quite attach faces to them. Was it Coach Coleman? He craned his head, pressing his ear against the door.

"I'm sorry Dr. Phelps is out today. He's the one you should really be talking to. But I just want to commend you on your progress. What you did today—it took so much courage. Especially considering your phobia."

"Look, sir. I don't want to talk about it, okay? It's over now."

Coach paused, "Macy, was that the first time since --?"

She cut him off. "Yes."

"You haven't touched the water at all?"

"Obviously I shower and brush my teeth."

"You know what I mean."

Her voice got very quiet and Nick realized what an invasion of privacy this was. Hiding in the closet suddenly seemed like the stupidest thing in the world. But you know what, there's no pause button in real life and so he gets to hear every last word. It's what he asked for, isn't it?

She took a breath and he could hear her voice cracking, "It's the first time I've swam since Leia died."

Coach's tone is warm, not curious. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright!"

Nick has never heard Macy snap at anyone, let alone Coach, who she loves. So the frustration in her voice surprises him. He's so confused. _Who is Leia?_

"Did being in the water bring it all back?"

"It has nothing to do with the water itself. It's the circumstances of it all. Thanks to that—that _evil_ woman—I almost got a play by play of everything all over again. How can you not see that we need to get rid of her?"

"I know how you feel about Holly. And you're right. We're going to do something about it. And by 'we' I mean Principal Durst, the Schoolboard and I. But right now I'm worried about you." He paused for a moment before asking, "Are you having the day-dreams again?"

"Yeah. Small ones. During my shower and in the hallway. When I close my eyes I see her face. And sometimes I can hear her calling for me. She's drowning right in front of me, screaming for me to help her."

Macy stopped to take a breath, sniffling. "And that's just the day dream. I can tell you exactly the nightmare I'll have tonight. I know it by heart. I try to reach her. I swim and swim and swim but never get any closer. And then she's gone. The screaming stops and all I can hear is the water folding in on itself. The silence is ten times worse than her cries. And then I wake up and go through the same confusing moment—relieved at first, realizing it was a dream, and heartbroken a second later—because it wasn't. "

"I know you've heard it before, but it doesn't make it any less true. Your cousin dying was not your fault. There was nothing you could do, you weren't even there."

"That's exactly it! I wasn't there. I should have been. We'd spent the day before together, watching Lilo and Stitch. She danced around the room to "Burning' Up" and had me in stitches. She wanted me to go with them to the beach the next day, but I couldn't. I don't even remember why."

There was a pause and Nick could hear her crying openly now. He felt his own eyes stinging suddenly.

"Tell me about her."

"She was six. Her mom named her Leia after my middle name. She always wore pigtails. She loved strawberry ice cream and JONAS. You know she didn't even finish first grade? I have no idea who she would've become. And now I never will."

There was another pause after her explanation and Nick was grateful. He's been wrong, so wrong about Macy. Six years old? It'd been three years since Frankie was six years old and Nick still remembered how cute he was when he smiled. And the way his hair curled oddly over his ears. Even the thought of losing his little brother made him sick. His chest hurt so much it felt like he could vomit out his lungs. And here Macy's been dealing with that and more for years now. How could be so stupid?

"Macy, grief is not logical. It's painful and hard. But you can't make yourself live in it forever. It'll destroy you. I'm not a psychologist, but I know that much. For a while now you've been doing great. What's been helping you cope before the swim incident brought it all back?"

Macy laughed, almost bitterly. "You don't want to know. It's ridiculous."

"Tell me."

She cleared her throat, assuming a characterized professional voice. "According to Dr. Phelps my fixation with JONAS directly links to the trauma I experienced from losing Leia. Becoming a JONAS fangirl connects me to her memory, even still. I've channeled the energy from my loss into a slightly less unhealthy obsession with the boy-band she loved."

"Well, Mace. I never thought I'd say it. But if being JONAS' number one fan helps you with your grief, then that's what you should be."

She didn't say anything for a while. "I don't know if it can be like that anymore. The illusion is wearing off. No one is the perfect ideal I craft JONAS out to be in my mind, and it's wrong to expect it. Did you know I broke a boy's heart last week? And not just any boy—but the sweetest boy you could ever imagine. Gentle and kind, with beautiful sea-green eyes. He really liked me. And I ruined it by trying to turn him into a JONAS clone."

"Randolph?"

"Yeah."

"Randolph's your friend, he'll get over it."

"Probably. But it made me realize, I've always said there's no harm in being a superfan. But maybe there is. Maybe it's a subtle kind of destruction. Because the euphoria is fading, and I don't know that I'm getting what I need from them."

.

.

"_Searching is half the fun: life is much more manageable when thought of as a scavenger __hunt__ as opposed to a surprise party."-- Jimmy Buffett_

.

Macy took a deep breath, a sharp intake of air to prepare herself to face the masses. _She could do this_.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Her talk with Coach had been tiring, but helpful. Now if she could make it through the last class of the day she'd be home free.

She was just about to reach for the handle when she noticed a small folded paper taped to the classroom door. It had her name on it, written in tiny blue-ink letters.

Huh.

She unfolded the note and read from it:

_Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Chapter VII Title._

That was all it said. It was silly, but Macy's heart started beating faster. Was this a joke? Because it certainly wasn't a note from the office. But then she'd known that the moment she saw it. Who tapes note to doors? Weird.

She tucked the paper in her front pocket and almost reached for the knob again, but curiosity got the best of her. Besides, she wasn't really expected back at class. And she'd had such a bad day, she deserved a little reprieve.

That little note felt very much like the beginnings of a game. And there were very few things Macy enjoyed more than a good game.

In two minutes she was browsing shelves in the school library, carefully selecting Lewis Carol's _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland _from the shelf. Flipping the page to chapter seven, the title read "A Mad Tea Party," and there was a paper slipped inside. A page from a calendar with tomorrow's date circled.

Was this an invitation?

.

The next morning, Macy found a third note in her locker. She felt glow worms dancing in her stomach at the sight of it. There was only one line:

JF 803.2 Seuss page 2

She should not be this excited about a crazy piece of paper, but she was. It was the perfect distraction. She'd had a dreamless sleep last night, and when she awoke the tea-party-treasure-game was the first thing she thought of.

Coach had made her swear she would try her best not to feel guilty about being happy. So whenever she felt anxiety pinching at her neck, she'd close her eyes and get lost in something else. She blared "What Did You Do To Your Heart" while she showered (she wasn't about to kick JONAS altogether) and flipped through "Alice in Wonderland" on the bus ride.

She thought about the clue again. JF 803.2 Seuss page 2. The fact that there was a page specified, confirmed Macy's suspicion that she would be looking for another book. And the numbers at the start looked a lot like the Dewey Decimal code librarians use. Should she risk being late to class and head over to the library again? Of course she should.

JF apparently stood for Junior Fiction, and soon she had a copy of Dr. Seuss's _Oh, the Places You'll Go_ opened to page two. Macy couldn't help but smile. It read:

_Congratulations!_

_Today is your day._

_You're off to Great Places!_

_You're off and away!_

Scribbled in pencil along the page's edge were the words: _Arboretum: ten-thirty am._

That would coincide with P.E., a class she definitely wouldn't mind skipping today. Especially since she wasn't sure if Holly Hotness was still around.

Being a girl, Macy associated tea parties with tea party attire. She'd brought a change of clothes, and a pair of lacy gloves, just for the occasion. As much as she liked their prep uniforms, she wouldn't wear one to a party. Ever. It's not every day you get invited to a secret tea party, and Macy was determined to cover all her bases.

So after a quick change of clothes, she skipped over to the arboretum. It was empty. She sighed, a little disappointed. But then she noticed something glinting beside a flower patch. A piece of china?

Macy approached it. Sure enough, there was a little blue and white tea cup and saucer hidden behind the azaleas. Inside the cup was a photo that had been ripped into twelve pieces. A puzzle, she realized.

Laying out each piece on the grass, she started with the edges. Within a minute, she was staring at the picture of a door. If she squinted she could make out the number on it. 307.

Huh. That's odd. Horace Mantis only held classes on the first two floors. The third floor was for storage and air ducts. She flipped the photo over, and found a second message in the same tiny blue caps that wrote all the clues. This one made her laugh:

_Ever seen "Never Ending Story"? It's like that._

Fortunately, Macy had seen that movie. There's a scene where the little boy Bastian is trying to hide from bullies (or something like that), he ducks into what looks like a janitor's closet, but ends up leading to the school attic.

Macy casually strolled the second floor, on the lookout for her mystery door, but careful not to seem conspicuous lest a teacher catch her. Sure enough, in between 206 and 208 stood a yellow door with 307 etched into it. How had she never noticed that before? She opened the door slowly and made her way to the back of the room.

That's what she was looking for. There, hanging from the ceiling, was a red chord. Pulling it down brought with it a set of stairs to the attic. Smoothing down her skirt, Macy went up, careful not to trip on the stair.

final chapter coming soon, I hope...

* * *

_*The Alice and Wonderland tea party invitation game came from one of my favorite books, "The View from Saturday" by E.L. Konigsburg. You should check it out._


End file.
